Crouching Hunter, Hidden Rogue OLD
by Mr Mythos
Summary: The start of a small series aboutt Rojo, this is a short begining about Rojo and his rivalRojo: yay!Eather: I shall smite you!BM: Just read the damn story. i will do these stories seperately, rather than in chapters, don't ask why :P


Hidden Rogue, Crouching Hunter

Rojo stood on the hill, the gentle breeze blew at his face as he stepped slowly down the other side of the grassy bump in the ground. He whistled as he walked. Unbeknown the undead, a night elf sat in a bush about 7 feet to the left with a bow pointed at Rojo's head.

Rojo was taking a walk out on the plains, the astral plains that led between his land and Azeroth.

The undead finished his tune and stopped his walk, he saw something golden in a bush a few feet away, he did not pay much attention to it, the creature was not doing him any harm, so why should he bother it?

As soon as his back was turned, an arrow flew through the air and the undead moved to the side with surprising speed and sliced the arrow in half with a blade, pitch black in colour, which seemingly appeared from nowhere.

Rojo looked around with his eyes and grinned, it was not an evil grin, or a sneering grin, but a mischievous grin.

"Come out, hunter, it is not fair to attack someone unawares, only I can do that" called the undead, as if he was a mother scolding her child. His overly long and spiky hair waved like reeds in the wind. As he called, a purple-skinned elf stepped out of the shrub.

"What can I help you with?" asked the walking corpse with polite interest.

"You can help me" replied the elf calmly "by leaving the world be from your plague, you filthy beast"

"Ooh! That's not nice!" said Rojo in a sing-song voice

"You do not deserve to be treated with respect!" yelled the elf into the undead's face, spit flying at him

"Temper, temper! Not very elf-like at all!" teased Rojo whilst wiping spittle off his nose.

The night elf drew a long jagged blade made of a blood red metal

Rojo looked the blade up and down, grinned like a Cheshire cat and two katana, midnight black, appeared in his hands.

The elf brought his sword down, but Rojo sidestepped and grazed the elf's arm, the undead never went to kill unless there was a good reason.

The elf tried jabbing at the grinning corpse's rib cage, but to be parried away by a katana.

Rojo sliced open the elf's leg; a deep blue-purple liquid spurted from the cut.

The elf slashed out in rage and managed to cut deep into Rojo's cheek. The undead frowned and then his grin returned, he broke away from the elf and jumped into a tree, the night elf in pursuit.

After both combatants had a firm grip in the tree, they began to clash blades again, the elf went to decapitate, but Rojo brought a blade up and stopped the elf's sword in its sweep.

With his other blade, the odd rogue clashed his katana with elven shoulder.

The night elf howled, he drew his sword away, making Rojo over balance and fall out of the tree, he latched onto a branch soon after toppling and was hanging off a branch with a triumphant elf standing over him, said elf was about to drive his sword through the defenceless undead's skull when Rojo let go of the branch and sprung off the branch below into another tree, the elf roared with anger and tore after the cunning corpse at full pelt.

Rojo leapt out his tree and hit the ground running, that elf was mad.

A squirrel was gnawing at a nut when he heard loud thumping and a pale humanoid creature came sprinting past it with a purple humanoid not far behind.

Rojo looked wildly around, this elf would eventually destroy him, he had to find a shadow. He saw a long shadow stretching out from a especially large tree.

The undead stood in the shadow and began to mutter under his breath, his eyes glowed a light blue and the shadow of the tree was absorbed onto Rojo's body, he was stealthed under shadow.

The elf stopped, where had that monstrosity got to? He looked around, searching for a pale figure wielding two katana. The purple-skinned elf squinted and could faintly make out a wavy figure. The night elf knocked an arrow and let it fly at the figure; the arrow hit Rojo square in the arm. He dropped to the ground, no longer stealthed.

"And so, I, Eather, rid the world of another scum" said Eather proudly

"Not quite yet…" came a weak reply

Rojo lashed out and sliced the elf across the middle, leaving another stain of blue-purple liquid staining the ground.

"W-why?" asked the fallen elf

"I will not kill you" said the kind dead man

"W-why?" repeated Eather

"An old moral, I believe" pondered Rojo thoughtfully "is, don't judge a book by its cover"

And with that, that undead continued his walk, leaving Eather, the elf, with his thoughts.


End file.
